The bodyguard
by happierhere
Summary: Elle now owns a security company. The Prentisses are her new clients. Elle meets Emily.


Title: The Bodyguard  
Author: happier_here  
Rating: R (mentions of violence and sex)  
Show: Criminal minds

Pairing: Emily / Elle

Spoilers: Fisher King, Honor among thieves / pre-Demonology (but mentiones John Cooley)  
Summary: Elle now owns a security company. The Prentisses are her new clients. Elle meets Emily.  
Author's Notes: This takes place a week before Demonology. I assume that Demonology takes place in January (snow...). Emily is at her parents place, and meets her predecessor.

The bodyguard

"_No love, no friendship can cross the path of our destiny without leaving some mark on it forever." – Jacques Muriac. _

Emily rang the doorbell. As usual it took a while before someone answered; the Prentiss Manor was huge, and even the perkiest hired help needed some time to cross the hallways. Unfortunately this gave Emily time to fidget and to consider the choices that had led her here.

It was the first time in years she was going to spend a part of the holidays with her family. Christmas had already passed in peace; she had spent the day alone, curled up with a book. Earlier the team had also had a small get-together, with Jack and Henry as the guests of honour. So when her mother had invited her to the annual New Years eve event in the family home, and had sounded so sincere on the phone, she had automatically accepted. Now, on the 30th of December, right on time for a quiet family dinner, she had second thoughts. Her mother and her had been getting along better, rebuilding their relationship dinner by dinner, call by call. But returning to the home she had spent fragments of her youth in, in between living abroad, suddenly seemed to soon.

The door opened. The face that appeared was unfamiliar, and obviously didn't belong to any of the household staff. The woman had dark hair, a penetrating gaze, and was dressed in an impeccable black suit, that did nothing to hide the gun strapped to her hip. It was like looking into a foggy mirror on a work day.

"Emily Prentiss?" The woman asked. "Can I see some ID, please?" Emily gaped at the woman. Before she could respond, she heard her mother complain in the background.

"Oh please, Elle. I'm perfectly capable of recognising my own daughter!" She took hold of Emily's arm and dragged her inside. "Welcome home, dear." She said with a hug.

Thoroughly confused by all the unusual events of the last minutes, Emily had to ask. "Mother, I … What is going on here?"

"Where have my manners gone?" Her mother joked. "Emily dear, this is Elle, from SAP Security. They've been hired to keep us safe." She explained. "And Elle, this is Emily, my daughter."

Trained during years at her mothers side, Emily automatically held out her hand and spoke: "A pleasure to meet you." Elle only offered a curt nod before turning on her heels and disappearing.

"Strange." Her mother muttered. "She's usually a very pleasant person."

Emily resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Only her mother would be diplomatic enough to call a woman with the social skills of an ogre _pleasant._ Dropping her things near the door, she organised her jumbled thoughts. And got right to the point by asking: "Mother, why did you hire security? Did you receive threats?"

Her mother shook her head. "Your father's newest novel is not without opposition. He got some threatening letters from a disgruntled fan. Neither of us believes this person will act on it, but the publishers alerted the authorities and they insisted on security."

"You don't believe?" Emily reacted incredulously.

Her mother gave her a pointed stare. "I've received and read many threats over the years. I may not be a profiler, but I'm sure this person was just venting his frustration. Anyway, the investigation has been stalled due to the holidays, and the editor was worried, so he's paying for security."

She sighed and suddenly Emily wondered if her mother had minded being surrounded by bodyguards for the better part of her professional life. The other woman had never mentioned annoyance, but then again, her mother wasn't the person to complain. She briefly considered asking Hotch if he had ever noticed anything during his assignment with her, but realised it was pointless.

"And how is Father?" She asked. She didn't bother asking _where_ he was, because she already knew the answer. He was in his study, writing away, as he always was. He would never win any awards, but it wasn't from a lack of trying. Emily had been surprised to hear that his latest works had been selling well. Off course, now his wife was retired, he was more free to write about his experiences abroad, without fear of compromising their political standing.

"He's well. I'm afraid he won't be joining us tonight. He informed me that his inspiration had returned and he simply had to finish this chapter before the party tomorrow."

Emily mentally applauded her mother for saying the words without even the slightest amount of sarcasm. She applied the same diplomacy, not answering to her father's absence with a pointed 'duh'. The last meaningful conversation she had had with her father had been discussing universities together.

Frankly she was glad she could spend a quiet dinner with her mother. Together they walked to the dining room.

Emily was bored. Extremely bored.

After a pleasant dinner, her mother had retired early at 8.30. It was a reasonable hour for an elderly ambassador who had a full day of entertaining guests ahead of her, but it was obscenely early for a younger FBI-agent who thrived at night.

She'd already been to see her father. The visit had been over as neither knew what to say to the other. A visit to the library, in search of a book to read (an unfortunate oversight during packing), had turned into a nice conversation with George, the bodyguard in charge of the library/control centre. She admired the installation: several cameras had been strategically placed in the house, of which she had spotted none. George also explained that her parents also had a 'shadow' charged to them, who followed them around at a respectful distance, guaranteeing their safety, but also their privacy.

Seeing that she was interested, he continued by talking about the firm itself. Apparently these big security jobs were not the entire scope of the company. They used their competence in body guarding to gather money, and fame, so they could support their half-way houses and organise cheap self-defence classes.

Their focus on prevention and the safety of women, Emily mused, was probably the reason her mother had chosen this firm, and not one of the more known ones. Her mother had always had a soft spot for charities involving women and children. She wouldn't be surprised if she'd use her considerable influence on her guests the following day to collect some donations to give SAP on top of their fee.

The entire organisation had been planned by three ex-FBI agents who had left the Bureau around the same time, disappointed in the justice system. Elle had been one of them, and it was obvious that George respected her a great deal. He himself, as an ex-cop frustrated with murderers and rapists walking free, had followed her lead and was currently designing a safety awareness program for young students: always go out in group, have a cell phone in your purse, don't drink too much, …

The conversation was slowly slipping into flirtation, and Emily left – without a book – before it got to seduction. George was a nice guy, but she definitely wasn't interested.

After wandering around aimlessly for a while, she decided to go for a small walk in the garden. Unlike the fabulous gardens of their neighbours, the Prentisses had decided on a modest design. From the terrace, you had an overview of the entire estate. In the back lay a small pond, which housed expensive fish. Leading there were two earth pathways, cutting through the lawn. The lawn itself was dotted with stylish rosebushes.

As an adult she could appreciate the aesthetics. As a child she had often dubbed the garden 'boooring'. After all there were no hedges to hide herself behind, there was no garden shed to store a bike and there were no ducks to feed.

Emily chose a bench near the water. Staring at the sky, she willed it to snow. "Not really the holidays without snow." She muttered to herself.

Suddenly she heard a sound coming from behind her. She jumped up, ready to defend herself. It was Elle, who was scowling at her.

"George, I found her… In the garden…" Because Elle was speaking into her headset, Emily couldn't hear George's response. But it had been laced with humour, because the other woman let out a small chuckle. "Yeah, I'll bring her back in."

Only then she addressed Emily: "Miss Prentiss, if you please." She gave a little bow and gestured towards the house.

Slightly embarrassed, Emily complied. Part of her was angry that the bodyguard was mocking her, but she realised she should have warned security before wandering of in a dark garden, that was probably rigged with motion detectors and other gadgets. So she did the courteous thing: she apologized.

"Sorry. It's been a while since I had bodyguards around."

Elle smirked. "No problem. Your mother actually warned us about your runaway tendencies."

That stopped Emily right in her tracks. She turned around and gaped at the other woman, doing a good impression of a fish caught out of water. "She… What?"

"Apparently, you used to ditch your guard to meet up with friends."

"When I was fifteen!". Emily had no idea why she was defending herself to this strange woman.

"And still evading us… I'll have to keep a better eye on you tomorrow." Elle countered.

"You're _my_ guard?" Emily was confused. Why would she need a bodyguard? They were here for her parents, not for her.

"We're hired to protect Mr. Prentiss' family. You're his daughter." Suddenly Elle was back to business.

"But I don't need protection" Emily was getting antsy. She couldn't get a hold on the other woman: one minute she was pure professional, the other she was what could be interpreted as hostile.

"Your mother specifically asked for me to protect you." Elle insisted.

"I can very well protect myself!" Emily lashed out.

She could almost see the moment the other woman's feelings boiled over: her impassive face heated, her muscles tensed up and her eyes narrowed. But when she spoke, her voice was ice cold. "Sure. Your big shiny FBI badge magically makes you bulletproof. I'll just go tell my team then, not to bother when a mad gunmen jumps out of the bushes."

Emily's train of angry thoughts stopped abruptly. Memories of watching Reid being tortured on-line, of waiting in the hospital hoping that Garcia was all right, of seeing detective Cooper being shot right in front of her eyes flooded her.

After her small tirade, Elle calmed slightly, and turned around to gather herself. "Look. The police takes this matter seriously. So do we. As long as you are here, it is my duty to protect you. Ok?" She offered a truce.

Emily didn't respond, now reliving those anxious moments in Cyrus' complex, not knowing if she, Reid and all the others would get out alive. Contrary to what the other woman believed, she knew well enough that FBI agents were not infallible, or invulnerable.

Elle on the other hand, who was still facing the other way, misinterpreted Emily's silence. She swirled around and appealed to Emily: "If you want, I can call in a replacement. It's obvious we got off on the wrong foot. But, don't leave. Your mother has been excited for days."

Emily looked the other women, who had surprised her yet again, in the eyes.

"I'm sure we can get along for a few days. I'll try to behave myself." She conceded.

"And I'll stay out of your way."

It seemed like a good deal. They walked back to the house in silence. Emily considered what Elle had told her about her mother. Apparently the older woman was really happy about her being here. And she had shared this with Elle, had even told her some childhood stories about her. Emily smiled.

Sunk in her own thoughts however, she didn't notice the other woman's absentmindedly rubbing a small piece of her chest.

It was still more than an hour before midnight, but Emily had already had enough. Her mother had practically introduced her to every guest and she wondered if enough polite conversation could be considered as torture. She really needed a rescue team out of here.

To make matters worse, she just saw John Cooley, a very unwelcome reminder of her past, walk in the door. How did he get his hands on an invitation? He greeted her father heartily (Emily did notice that her father didn't have a clue who he was talking to). Fearing he would now start looking for her, Emily excused herself from the group she was currently talking (listening) to. And then she did what she did best at these functions: she snuck of for a smoke.

The night air was cold, but Emily didn't care. Right then, the cigarette was all that mattered. She held on to it as if it was a life line. For one moment she was at peace again.

Then she was startled by a voice, that suddenly appeared right behind her.

"That's a bad habit, you know."

She didn't need to look up to know who the voice belonged to.

"I only smoke two or three cigarettes a year."

"So only at parties?" Elle asked sarcastically, but went to stand beside Emily. They leaned against the balustrade.

"Or after bad cases.." Emily answered without thinking. And then cringed. She didn't want to remind the other woman of her professional past. For her to quit, _something_ had happened…

But the other woman just shrugged. "Beats drinking."

The next few minutes were spent in a comfortable silence.

"I actually was talking about you ditching your guard. _Again._" Although the words were chastising, her tone was teasing.

"Sorry, just needed to get away for a while."

"Take as much time as you need."

But the gods were not as kind as Elle, because right at that moment Johnny wandered onto the balcony.

"Em, thank God! I've been looking for you all night."

Emily cringed at the familiar nickname.

"I really need to talk to you. He's in trouble. Mat.."

Elle cut him of, stepping in front of Emily as to shield her with her body. "I'm sorry sir, Agent Prentiss has promised me to come with me for a security check."

Johnny didn't surrender just yet. "Em! Please." He begged.

Swayed by his plea, Emily very gently pushed Elle aside and addressed her old friend.

"I have to go, John. But leave your card, and I'll call you when I get back to DC."

Johnny look from Elle to Emily and back to Elle and her menacing glare. He sighed. "Alright."

Elle didn't give him an opportunity to reconsider, but led Emily back inside. To Emily's surprise, they didn't rejoin the party. Instead Elle brought her to her mother's empty office.

Inside, Emily thanked Elle profusely.

"Don't worry. It doesn't take a profiler to see you really didn't want to talk to him. An ex-boyfriend?"

Emily slowly nodded. Boyfriend wasn't exactly the right term, but how does one call the friend that got her 15year old self pregnant and then told her to deal with it herself?

Then her mind put up a flag at the word _profiler_. Several pieces fell together: Elle, ex-agent, ex-profiler.

"You're Elle Greenaway, former member of the BAU."

Elle laughed and dropped herself on a leather chair. "And you're SSA Prentiss, the newest member of the BAU. I wondered if you would figure it out."

A bit insulted, Emily defended herself. "I didn't have that much to go on, _Elle_." She emphasised the other woman's first name.

"We don't give out our last names to the clients. It's a security measure, it helps to keep our safe houses safe."

Or yourself, Emily thought. Her teammates never talked about their former colleague, but everyone in Quantico knew her story: how the Fisher King had broken into her apartment, had shot her and used her blood to leave a message to the team. No wonder she had dedicated her life to keeping others safe.

"I need a drink." She said out loud and wandered towards her mothers drinks cabinet. "Where is it…" She muttered, rummaging through the bottles. "Aha." She came back triumphantly, handing Elle the bottle.

"Vodka?"

"The good stuff. My mother once did the Polish ambassador a great favour, so now he sends a bottle of this each year at Christmas." She returned to the table with two small glasses.

"I'm on the job." Elle said, when it became obvious Emily waited for her to fill the glasses.

Emily snorted. "This is the safest room in this house. Probably in this entire state. The windows are bullet proof and the walls have been reinforced. The guests at the gala are harmless and probably too scared of my mother to even consider coming over here. We'll be alone for as long as we want to be."

Elle shrugged and filled the glasses. They toasted to the New Year and drank.

"So, a study slash safe room? Your mother is an impressive woman."

Emily nodded and refilled the glassed.

"Your childhood must have been interesting as well, travelling all around the world."

_Interesting_. It was insightful of Elle to have used that word. Most people gushed over her childhood, calling it wonderful and mostly being envious of the amount of countries that Emily had visited. It had been interesting, Emily would never deny that. She had learned so much about different cultures over the years, and she had met interesting people. But it had also been very lonely. As the ambassador's daughter, she didn't get the chance to make many friends. Most of the time she had been surrounded with adults: tutors, nannies and bodyguards. She chuckled at a memory.

She didn't know if it was the newfound understanding with Elle, or the few glasses of wine she had had earlier, but she suddenly had the urge to share the story with the other woman.

"When I was 6, I lived in Saudi Arabia. I had bodyguards following me everywhere. So I considered them as my best friends. I mimicked them: black suit, severe face. I even begged my mother for new cool sunglasses."

She paused a minute for dramatic purposes.

"After a months of nagging, she bought me new ones. Pink with flowers."

They both laughed.

"So you were a junior G-man? No wonder you grew up to be an FBI-agent."

"How did you decide to join?" Emily asked curious.

"My dad was a cop." Elle's voice softened. "He got shot in the line of duty."

"I'm sorry." Emily cringed, but Elle shrugged. She proposed another toast.

"To parents."

"To parents." Emily echoed.

"How's the team?"

"Fine. Euhm." Emily tried to organise her thoughts chronologically, trying to remember what Elle probably did and didn't know. "Gideon left. Agent Rossi replaced him."

"The legendary David Rossi…"

"Yeah." Emily smiled at the memory of Reid getting excited before meeting him. It had taken a while before Rossi had found his place, but now he was truly a part of the team. "It's great having him on the team."

"Reid still a genius?"

"No change there. Morgan is pretty much the same too. Garcia's got a boyfriend now: Kevin, another analyst, a bit geeky, but a really nice guy."

"Match made in heaven." Elle commented dryly. "How's Hotch?"

_Hotch…_ _Divorced. Depressed. Overcompensating. Slowly working his way into an early grave_. Emily did not quite know how to put it politely. "Hotch is Hotch.." She shrugged and changed the subject quickly. "And JJ's a mother now: she has a little boy called Henry."

"Let me guess, her husband is a cop?"

"How did you know?" Emily asked surprised.

"I know the hours the BAU keeps. If she met someone and it became serious, it was either a victim or a cop she met during office hours."

"That's a really depressing thought." Not that she hadn't already noticed the same thing in her own personal life. The only people she got to flirt with were other officers of the law or (and she shuddered at the memory of Viper) witnesses.

"It's the truth. Or do you have a boyfriend stashed away somewhere?" She sipped her glass again before continuing. "Or should I say girlfriend?"

Emily almost chocked on her vodka.

"How? How did you know?" Emily wasn't exactly 'out. She had always kept her sexual life, whether it had been with men or women, very private.

"George would say, because of your immunity to his charms. But I have watched you drooling over Miss Bulgaria's cleavage the entire evening."

Emily blushed. "I didn't drool." Elle just looked at her. "But you have to admit… her dress was interestingly cut."

"Alright, I concede to that."

Wanting to get her own back, Emily poked into Elle's private life. "What about you? Are your new hours more boyfriend-friendly?"

Elle's mood dropped. "The last man I slept with, got his head severed and sent to Gideon. I'm not exactly great dating material."

Emily cursed herself. How did she always wind up with her foot in her mouth? Luckily Elle salvaged the situation by refilling their glasses, and steering the conversation towards safer topics.

Half an hour later, they were still talking amicably. Outside, the guests started the countdown to midnight. Determined to toast with her newfound friend, Emily poured the last of the bottle into their glasses. She never noticed Elle drawing closer.

When the shouting and cheering began, Elle pressed her lips to Emily's. Too confused to do anything else, Emily joined in. It was a great kiss. If she was entirely honest to herself, it had been to long since she had had a beautiful woman in her embrace and she gave in to those feelings.

But when they separated, her mind (or her conscience) kicked right back into gear. "What just happened?"

"A happy New Year's kiss." Elle answered, talking very slowly as if she was talking to a dim-wit.

"Yes, but you're not gay!"

Elle chuckled. "So?" Deciding the other woman wasn't opposed to kissing, but just overthinking it, she moved in for another kiss.

"But.." Emily started, interrupting the other woman's plans. Elle laid her finger on Emily's lips, silencing her doubts.

"We are both consenting adults, who had a bit too much to drink and now want to spend a night in each other's company. God knows we can both use a little company. Gay, straight? Just labels. Tonight we are Elle and Emily. And we are going to enjoy ourselves. Right?"

Emily's subconscience roared: a beautiful willing woman at your fingertips and you're profiling her needs? God, you really need to get a social life. Get with the program and kiss her again! Profile tomorrow!

So she leaned in for another kiss. When they came up for air, Emily whispered: "My room?" She only got a smile in response, but it was all she needed.

The rest of the night passed within the same serenity. Emily had never experienced anything like it. Sex had often been enjoyable for her, but this was something else, something more. It wasn't sexual, it was sensual.

No words were needed. They undressed each other slowly, taking in the other's body, noticing but not paying any attention to the scars they both had. Elle's were ugly, marring her pale skin. Emily's skin was still bruised after Cyrus 'attentions' several weeks ago. No questions were asked.

Emily guided them to the bed. But it was Elle who took charge first. She explored Emily's body with her fingers, before she finally – and not a moment too soon for Emily – took them where the other woman desperately needed them and guided her to an amazing orgasm.

After she catched her breath, Emily travelled her mouth over Elle's body. She was careful not to spend too much time with her scars, but didn't avoid the area either. When she got to Elle's navel, she lifted herself up on her elbows, so she could look her partner in the eyes. "You're beautiful." She whispered softly, but loud enough for Elle to hear it.

When Elle came, she had tears in her eyes.

The next morning they still lay in each other's arms, when Elle's cell phone started ringing.

Elle dutifully untangled herself and searched the pile of clothes on the floor. "Alarm clock," she explained.

Emily groaned. "How late is it?"

"6.30." Elle started getting dressed.

Emily groaned again. "Why are you getting up so early? Your 'mission'.." she waved a lazy arm at herself, "isn't planning on getting up until 10."

Elle chuckled. "You stopped being my mission at midnight. I'm leaving for Seattle this afternoon. I promised my mother I would spent at least a part of the holidays with her."

Fully dressed, she sat on the bed. "George is in charge now, my replacement will arrive at noon."

"Too bad." Emily joked, "I just started to get used to you." They both laughed.

"I could leave a card…" Elle hesitated.

"I'll probably never call," Emily answered the unspoken question. They both knew this was and would remain a one time thing. And they were both fine with it.

Elle kissed Emily's forehead, before getting up. "Goodbye then."

"Take care, Elle."

With one last smile Elle walked out of her room and out of her life. Emily settled back in under the blankets, wanting to get back to sleep. A new year had started, but for now the rest of the world could wait.


End file.
